


When Fate Doesn't Allow

by theREDwriter08



Category: Bubbline - Fandom
Genre: Adventure Time - Freeform, Angst, Bonnibel Bubblegum - Freeform, Cartoon Network - Freeform, F/F, Fanfiction, Fluff, Hynden Walch, Lesbian, Marceline Abadeer - Freeform, Marceline the vampire queen - Freeform, Olivia Olson, Princess Bubblegum - Freeform, creative writing, marceline - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 14:47:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11923158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theREDwriter08/pseuds/theREDwriter08
Summary: Bonnibel spends some time with Marceline.





	When Fate Doesn't Allow

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Hello, this is just a snippet about Bubbline. I hope you enjoy it! xx

The dark ensues in bits and cracks as the day ends for slumbers to be held.  
Lights flicker then off through the cold, dead night like peering eyes and withering flower petals forming dots to denote its finish line.  
But above the crowd of gentle snores soar the queen in plain black clothes, humming symphonies yet to be documented but are surely the dream of the world.  
She glides with every flap, and slips, gently, through the open window of the princess who's still far too busy to end the full day.  
Beams reminiscent of the biggest star hit a small, sculpted diorama in haste.  
For the sake of science, she always says.  
It doesn't take her too long to recognize the faint presence that hovers amid the silent room.  
There's only her, anyway.  
And so, she greets as she always does, "Marceline,"  
The queen chuckles, "Working through the night, I see—I'm not surprised."  
"Just a few more minor modifications," says she, "I have to present this by midday tomorrow."  
She has a habit of taking it too far.  
A gift, in retrospect, as the kingdom wouldn't have grown as it did if not for her busy days and sleepless nights.  
Something most fail to realize.  
"Can you hand me the screws from the top left drawer?"  
Marceline takes the cigarette from her lips, kills it against her cold, numb flesh.  
Because Bonnibel secretly hates it.  
"Do you need the smallest one?"  
She nods.  
Marceline's eyes stumble upon a lone sweat trickling down Bonnibel's cheek.  
Passing her lips, down to her chin.  
Deliciously intriguing, like gift-wrapped boxes waiting for the reveal.  
"I'm sorry I didn't make it."  
A bland ribbon of glee untied itself from her wishful thinking.  
Bonnibel rarely ever starts a conversation during work hours.  
Or rather, her own, unjust timetable.  
"It's ... not a big deal, no."  
"But it is," replies, "I find it more and more difficult to see you each day, and it doesn't make me feel good, either, and I ..."  
Stops.  
"am so sorry, Marceline."  
Rain falls as unnaturally as it always does when it involves her, continuing to screw and unscrew and place and hammer all the while, and it's frustrating to see, really, Marceline thinks.  
"Bonnibel,"  
"I'm pushing you away again, aren't I?"  
The bland ribbon regains its knot as the queen's hand meets the princess'.  
They are callused, not like a monarch's at all.  
But she likes it.  
Poetry and strength, there's a history with those ruined hands.  
And she admires it the most.  
"I'm not going anywhere," says Marceline, "not this time."  
Bonnibel thinks—wonders, really—why her body is smooth in recognition of how Marceline guides her to the bed.  
It has never happened before.  
Marceline doesn't like the things she does.  
She doesn't like quiet, cold nights; working in laboratories; solving equations for the people.  
In fact, it's always been trouble and magic and mischief.  
But as she's tucked in for a forced slumber she actually needs, and craves, she feels the quietness Marceline despises, and there's nothing less than a smile on her face to her surprise.  
"I promise you by midday tomorrow it will be all finished," says the queen, "you will present and do so amazingly, so please, just rest for now."  
Her clear vision starts to become distorted.  
"But I," she blinks, "want to look at you for just a little while longer ... before tomorrow."  
Her body meets the same mattress as she sits, letting her fingers run through the princess' hair.  
"You can look at me all you want until you fall asleep. And I'll still be here when you wake up."  
Bonnibel soon slips away, joining the crowd of snores that currently rules the entire kingdom.  
And Marceline.  
Well, she keeps her promises.  
Wishing she could slip away, somehow, just to meet her on the other side.  
The warmth.  
The one Bonnibel provides since she doesn't have any.  
And the feeling in her stomach, mellow yet ecstatic.  
She wants it all.  
But in times when fate doesn't allow as she's far too preoccupied, and she, on the other hand, can't dream, the moment will have to do.


End file.
